Tongue Tied
by oh-you-pretty-things
Summary: "I'm having a party on Saturday. You should come." Modern AU. Hiccup x Astrid
1. Sure Can Start

_AN: I swore I wouldn't do this and here I am, doing this. A HTTYD modern AU for your reading pleasure. This is basically a super long prologue for the super long AU that currently resides in my brain._ _It was supposed to be a super short, random excuse for smut, but Hiccup and Astrid had other plans._ _They had to go and get real. I'm going to leave you a song for each chapter because this story decided to have a soundtrack. Also, please note: this story is rated M for various reasons inclusive of: sex, swearing, underage drinking, sex and swearing. Yes. Those things, in that order. If you're not into that, I wouldn't proceed._ _Annnd, shout out to Foxy'sGirl for beta-ing and encouraging this beast._

**Chapter 1 Song: Sure Can Start by Two Hours Traffic**

Hiccup's lips were hot against her throat and Astrid wondered why she's only thought of this now. Everyone knows the quiet ones are always the hottest. Not that Hiccup is quiet. Because he's not. No, he's decidedly not. He's a snarky little asshole and Astrid has no idea _why_ she finds that so _hot_. Because it is. Right now, her body pressed into his in her bedroom while the booming bass of the party thumps all around them, quickening her heartbeat. Or maybe it's _Hiccup_ who's quickening her heartbeat because _Jesus Christ_ how many hands does this boy have? They're all over her and every touch is setting her on fire.

OoOoOoO

The thing was – well, the thing was that Astrid was more than a little tired of Scott. _I mean, he's _fine, she thought. And it wasn't a compliment. 'Fine' was not a word she wanted to use to describe her boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend. He's so…it's just… And _that_ right there was yet another reason why she'd ended it. There were no more surprises in their relationship unless she counted the times he showed up to her house, kissed her on the cheek and then watched football with her brother. Astrid was sure that her brother was more upset about their breakup than she and Scott were.

This party was basically a concession. It was a breakup party a month too late. It wasn't really for her; it was for her friends. Astrid needed to prove to her friends that although she and Scott were broken up, they could still exist at the same social event. Hell if she was going to lose party invites in her senior year because of _Scott_ _Fucking Jorgensen._ So she invited him first. Initially he thought that she was trying to get back together with him. He gave her this sideways, toothy grin and cocked an eyebrow at her.

"A _party_, huh?" he asked.

Astrid had known what he'd been implying and it made her want to hit him in the face. But hitting him in the face – wiping that smug grin right off his unreasonably handsome face – would have been giving him more attention than he deserved. Instead she'd shot him her own incredulous smile.

"Yes. A party. With half of Berk in attendance."

"The cool half."

"Yes," she'd agreed flatly, "The cool half."

Then she'd watched Scott body check Hiccup into a locker. It had bothered her. Astrid hadn't been sure what had bothered her, exactly. It wasn't Scott being a lout so much as it was the way Hiccup had slammed into the locker with so much force. Way more force than he used to. It was the murderous glare in his green eyes – when had she cared that he had _green_ eyes? It was the broadness of his shoulders that she couldn't remember him ever having before.

"How's it going, Hiccup?" Scott asked, his lips popping on the p.

"Things were great until I ran into you." His voice was so wry and something about it sent a shiver down Astrid's spine. She definitely wasn't cold.

"Yeah," Scott laughed, "You should watch where you're going."

Hiccup narrowed his eyes, heavy eyebrows lowering and Astrid spoke before she even realized what she was going to say.

"I'm having a party on Saturday. You should come," she said to Hiccup.

His face opened up, eyes widening, eyebrows rising, mouth falling open. He was _adorable_. How had she never noticed that he was adorable before? Why did she think _Hiccup_ was adorable? He glanced over his shoulder shakily and then turned back to face her.

"What?" Scott spat, comically turning around and putting his hand on Astrid's forehead, "Are you sick, snugglebuns? You just invited my dork cousin to your party."

Astrid swatted his hand away and stepped out of Scott's grip so that she was closer to Hiccup, who swallowed nervously. Seriously. Adorable.

"You should come," she repeated, giving him the award-winning Astrid Hofferson grin of perfection.

Hiccup opened his mouth like he would say something but then just nodded his head. Astrid grinned in satisfaction, turned and walked through the hall, swaying her hips and hoping he was watching.

"Astrid! You can't be serious!" Scott yelled after her, "It's _Hiccup_. You said the _cool_ half!"

OoOoOoO

Astrid had forgotten that she'd even invited Hiccup to the party. She'd only done it because he'd been so _adorable_ in that moment and she knew it would piss off Scott. It wasn't until she was talking to Ruff at lunch two days later that she remembered.

"Did I hear that you invited Hiccup Haddock to your party?"

"What?"

"Hiccup. Party."

Astrid stared at her friend. "Yeah, so? I don't know," Astrid shrugged, "It seemed like a good idea at the time." Because he was adorable, she wanted to say.

Ruff just stared at her with raised eyebrows. "Tuff thinks you've lost your mind."

"That's rich coming from him."

"He thinks you've lost your mind from the grief of losing Scott."

Astrid threw her sandwich down on the table and half rose out of her seat. "_I_ broke up with _him_," she hissed through gritted teeth.

Ruff rolled her eyes. "Relax. Jeez," she said, reaching over to grab at Astrid's arm, "Sit down. Everyone is _looking._"

Astrid looked around, blonde braid swinging heavily against her back. Everyone turned back to their lunches and pretended not to have been eavesdropping and staring. A pair of freshmen girls were gawking at Astrid with wide frightened eyes; she narrowed her eyes and leaned forward aggressively.

"What?"

They both shook their heads rapidly and stared at the table in front of them. Astrid sat down with a heavy thump.

"I broke up with him, that fucking little _lout_."

"Snotlout, even," Ruff said grinning.

"Fucking little snotty bastard _lout."_

"Do you want to kill him?" Ruff asked. Astrid recognized her frenzied tone.

"Yes."

"Can I watch?"

"Duh."

"Can I bring Tuff?"

"I might kill him, too, if he keeps perpetuating that fucking lout's lies."

"Cool. I'll bring him then."

Astrid rolled her eyes. "I can't wait for this stupid party. Then everyone can see with their own goddamned eyeballs that Scott and I are over."

"Yeah, and you can hang out with your new boyfriend."

Astrid glared at her friend.

"Because those knobby knees of his get you bothered and hot. All those freckles and that almost red hair. The way he flops magic cards makes you wet. You want to ride his—"

"Okay, Rachel, Jesus!" Astrid laughed, throwing a fry at the other blonde, "Like you can talk about _nerds_."

Ruff shrugged and ate the fry that Astrid threw at her. "I like to corrupt them. It's a challenge."

"Who's your latest victim?"

"I'm in the market. Shopping around," Ruff said, peering around the cafeteria as though her next target would just appear.

Hiccup appeared. Hiccup and that other kid, the big blond one – what did they call him now? Fishlegs. But Astrid didn't care about Fishlegs. She was watching Hiccup and trying to figure out when he had gotten so tall. It had to have been over the summer. She'd seen him once at the movies. With Heather. Hadn't they been dating? Fucking Heather. Astrid hated that girl. She stormed into Berk High last winter, batting her eyes and flicking her fucking hair. And then of all the boys, she goes out with _Hiccup._ It annoyed her because it meant that Heather had seen something in him before anyone else. Before Astrid.

"You're staring," Ruff says, drawing out her words, "And biting your lip. Oh my god! You _do_ want Hiccup!"

"What?" Astrid says a little too loudly, tearing her eyes away from the line of Hiccup's shoulders, trying not to think about how much they'd broadened. Trying not to think about running her hands along his shoulder blades.

"You're interested in young Harrison," Ruff said, nodding and grinning.

"What? You mean _Hiccup_? Don't be ridiculous."

But for once Astrid had to wonder just who was being ridiculous.


	2. I Couldn't Be Your Friend

_AN: You know what, guys?_ _I'm excited that _you're_ excited._

**Chapter 2 song: I Couldn't Be Your Friend - Tegan and Sara**

"I'm not going," Hiccup said from his bed, arm thrown over his eyes.

"What do you mean you're not going?" Frankie asked, his head shoved in Hiccup's closet.

"I mean: I'm not going," Hiccup repeated slowly and sarcastically.

"You have to go."

"Says who? Did they pass a law? Is there some sort of 'you must go to every stupid, drunken house party that passes you by' law that I am not aware of?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact. It's _unwritten_," Frankie said emphatically.

Hiccup shifted his arm to rest on his forehead and hazarded a peek at his friend. He raised a dubious eyebrow at Frankie who was holding two nearly identical t-shirts of Hiccup's in his hands looking between them with a furrowed brow. He decided on the black shirt and tossed it at Hiccup.

"Wear black. There's an eighty-nine percent chance that Astrid prefers black to green."

Hiccup released an exasperated sigh. "I'm not going to Astrid's party," he repeated again.

The bigger boy stared at Hiccup, his face disbelieving. "_Astrid_ invited you."

"Only to piss off Scott. Why else would she invite _me_? She doesn't even know who I am."

"Of course she knows who you are. There was that time in kindergarten when you accidentally shot sticky tack into her hair. Then there was third grade when you lost control of your skateboard, ran into her and broke her wrist. Oh, and remember seventh grade when you made that rocket and it blew up and singed her eyebrows? What about ninth grade when –"

"OKAY! STOP! Jeez, Frank. I had been _repressing _all that, so thanks for summing it up."

"I'm just saying, she knows who you are."

"Great. Then she probably invited me so she can dump pig's blood on my head."

Frankie looked at him blankly. "Why would she do that?"

Hiccup sat up, staring at Frankie with wide, unbelieving eyes. "Carrie? Stephen King? They invite her to prom and dump pig's blood on her head?"

"That's not very nice. And this isn't prom; it's Astrid's party."

Hiccup rolled his eyes and growled as he threw himself back on the bed. "Forget it."

"If you don't change, we're going to be late."

"I think that's the point, Frankie. People are always late to parties."

"I distinctly remember the party start time as eight p.m."

"Which means ten."

Frankie started babbling about punctuality and Hiccup found his mind wandering to Astrid. Her face when she had looked right at him, smiled that glorious smile, and invited him to her party. In front of Scott. It had clearly been a ploy to piss off Scott. What else could it be? Everyone knew they'd just broken up. Maybe she'd been trying to make him jealous. Hiccup scoffed at that. Astrid Hofferson using Harrison Haddock to make Scott Jorgensen jealous? That was a _hilarious_, impossible concept.

Astrid. He hated how much he still _liked_ her after all this time. She was his first crush and honestly it was starting to feel like she'd be his _last_ crush, too. The problem was that she just kept on getting more and more beautiful as time went on. She'd been cute when they were kids with those big blue eyes and that nest of tangled, golden hair. She'd gotten prettier when they started high school and she started caring more about her appearance, wearing makeup and actually brushing her hair. But this year? This year she was a _goddess_. She was just... She'd basically stopped wearing makeup which made the sheer excellence of her face all the more evident. Her eyes were a bright, shining feature on her face. Her lips were pink and plump and made even more attractive by the knowledge that nothing was making them that pink and kissable other than _Astrid_. And her freckles. Oh god, her freckles. Hiccup could write sonnets about her freckles. If he ever had the chance he would make it his life's goal to kiss each and every one of those freckles.

But that was an impossible pipe dream. Four days ago he had been in the closest physical proximity to her since they were lab partners in ninth grade science class (which had been fine until Hiccup had _accidentally_ (read: completely on purpose because he'd wanted to know what would happen) put that big chunk of sodium in water and set the ceiling on fire). Astrid practically made a study of avoiding him. Maybe that was giving himself too much credit. Maybe she just moved in such different circles that their paths crossing was never going to be in the cards. Except when Scott was involved.

The injustice of Scott getting everything Hiccup had ever wanted had only increased when he'd started dating Astrid last year. It was the icing on top of an extremely messed up cake. Scott was the pride of their family. Scott was better at sports. Scott was better looking. Scott could have conversations with Hiccup's dad. Scott got Astrid. Scott was also an idiot, but no one seemed to care about that. Hiccup frowned when he thought about how happy his dad had been when Scott had made the football team and how _disappointed_ he'd been in Hiccup for…existing. The worst part was that Hiccup and Scott had been friends as children. Hiccup's mother, Val, had made sure that they'd played together. They'd been best friends.

Everything had changed in eighth grade, when Val got sick. Scott became angry with Hiccup. He started pushing him around. He started hitting him. Hiccup's mother was _dying_ and his best friend was slipping further and further away. That's when "Hiccup" had started. Hiccup was pretty sure that Scott hadn't meant for it to stick. He was _pretty_ sure. But it had. It happened during the worst time, when Val was slipping in and out of consciousness, sometimes calling Hiccup's father's name out in a voice that sent chills down Hiccup's spine, sometimes not recognizing her son's face, sometimes staring at nothing at all. Hiccup's dad had made him go to school but he hadn't really been there. And no one knew. No one except Scott.

Hiccup still remembered the fight in vivid detail. It had started like most of their fights started – irrationally and because Hiccup had said something sharp and biting and Scott hadn't understood. Scott's hands – big and meaty and familiar – had curled up in the fabric of Hiccup's t-shirt and shoved him backwards with too much force. There had been a moment – the moment when Hiccup fell to the ground – in which Scott's eyes had widened with the realization of what he'd done. But Hiccup had been angry, too. His mother was dying and his Dad was never home; Scott was awful and Hiccup felt so alone. Hiccup had dug into that deep, dark, miserable place in his core and found Scott's weaknesses there, glaringly obvious and so easy for him to exploit. He couldn't remember the exact words that he'd said, but he knew they were cruel. He knew he'd preyed upon Scott's weaknesses – his self-consciousness about his intelligence, his inability to find the right words, the way he could never keep up with Hiccup.

Hiccup had wanted Scott to hit him. He'd wanted the pain because at least it was _different_ from the agony and helplessness of watching his mother die. The flurry of fists hitting him, the hardness of the cold, damp ground under his back - it had all happened too fast and Hiccup had taken in too much air. Scott was hitting him and he was _hiccupping_ and crying. He couldn't do anything because everything hurt too much – his body and his heart. Nothing had made sense except Scott's words.

"This was _your_ fault, Har-," Scott had paused, listening to Hiccup's gasping hiccups, "_Hiccup_."

Afterward that was all anyone would talk about - how he'd been hit so hard that he had _hiccupped._ People passing him in the hall, snickering and whispering: "Hiccup". Val had died three days later and Hiccup's world had collapsed. His dad was practically catatonic throughout the whole ordeal. Scott wouldn't even look at him. And to make matters worse, when he came back to school people still called him Hiccup. The sympathy card that his class had put together was actually filled with condolences addressed to "Hiccup". He still had that card for one reason only – a looping, girlish note:

_Harrison, I'm so sorry about your mom. I hope you come back to school soon._

_ Astrid_

Astrid hadn't called him Hiccup. In fact, she'd never called him Hiccup. At least not to his face. But then again, she never really called him anything.

"Are you even listening?"

"What?" Hiccup asked, his attention snapping back to Frankie.

"I said you should go to the party."

"Oh god. Not that again. Just go without me."

"I wasn't invited."

Hiccup rolled his eyes and sat up again. "She didn't exactly send out engraved invitations, Frank. Just go. Hell, go in my stead. Please."

"I can't," he said, shaking his head vigorously, "But you were _invited_. I could go _with _you."

Hiccup opened his mouth to once again stalwartly declare that he _would not_ be going to the party, but one look at Frankie's face and he snapped his mouth shut. His friend was so hopeful, so utterly dependent on him, as though this was the pivotal moment of his high school career. It probably was. Hiccup's shoulders slumped and Frankie's eyes widened like an overgrown puppy's. He knew he was winning.

"What if Heather's there?"

Frankie's face pinched up. "Astrid hates Heather."

"What?"

"Yeah, she _hates_ her."

"How do you know that?"

"Seriously? Everyone knows that."

"Why would she-?"

"Maybe she likes you. Maybe she was jealous," Frankie said, grinning like he'd just told the greatest joke.

But it wasn't a joke to Hiccup. Because _what if_? By all intents, Astrid and Heather should be friends. Astrid was athletic; Heather was athletic. Astrid was smart; Heather was smart. Astrid was beautiful; Heather was…pretty. They should be able to stand in the same room and talk about _anything_. Heather really could talk about anything. She could charm _anyone_. She just…wasn't…Astrid. That was the best Hiccup could come up with. Heather was great, but she wasn't Astrid. And the truth was Heather had only seemed half-interested in him anyway. She'd been there but she hadn't been there. She'd been more interested in building contraptions and discussing the parameters of said contraptions than she had been in kissing Hiccup. But she had kissed _him_ first. He hadn't even really _wanted _to kiss her. And then they were kissing all the time, even when he'd rather be talking about the blueprints of his latest invention. Then they were…dating? Which had really just been the same thing they'd been doing before only with kissing. And then it was over, apparently, and she had moved on to Nick Dagur, the slightly insane captain of the swim team at Berserker High.

"Hiccup? I think I lost you," Frankie said, waving his hand in Hiccup's face.

Hiccup frowned. "What did you just say?"

"I said I think I lost you."

"Before that. Did you…did you call me _Hiccup_?"

Frankie swallowed hard and Hiccup glared at him. He mumbled something that Hiccup didn't hear.

"What?" he snapped.

"Everyone calls you Hiccup."

Hiccup glared at Frankie. "I didn't think you did, _Fishlegs_."

Frankie flinched at the mention of his less than flattering nickname. "I'm sorry, Harrison. It just slipped out. And not everyone calls you Hiccup. I mean, Astrid doesn't."

"Oh, and you're in the habit of talking to Astrid Hofferson now, are you?"

As soon as he said it, what Frankie had said seemed to sink in. That was always his first defense, a quick, vicious response before he'd even processed the rest of the conversation. Frankie was right, though. Astrid didn't call him Hiccup. At least not to his face.

Astrid didn't call him Hiccup. Astrid hated Heather. Astrid had invited him to her party – stared him straight in the eye and gave him that sweet, sweet smile and told him to come to her party. What if she – well, it wasn't really likely, but _what if_ she actually _wanted_ him to come? What if she was _waiting_ for him at her party? What if she felt the same way he did but they just never connected? _What if?_ Wouldn't it be stupid _not_ to go and to never know? There _could_ be a bucket of pig's blood waiting for him at the Hofferson house, or there could be the girl of Hiccup's dreams, _waiting_. Either way, Astrid was there and was there any real question?

"Fine," Hiccup said, climbing off his bed, "We'll go. But we're going to play cards first. And I'm wearing the green shirt."

"That's a bad idea," Frankie said, shaking his head, "I estimate a very low success rate in the green shirt – eight, maybe nine percent."

"I'll take my chances," Hiccup said wryly.


	3. Knot in My Heart

_AN: I forgot to mention this: I'll be posting chapters every Monday and Thursday. Thank you all for your kind words and faves and follows. Mwa!_

**Chapter Song: Knot in My Heart by The Zolas **

Astrid actually hated the party. She _hated _it. Truthfully, she'd rather be up on her bed, reading. She rolled her eyes when Scott came storming through her front door like he owned the joint and chest bumped her brother. Apparently _they_ hadn't broken up.

"Hey, babe," Scott said, curving his arm around her waist and moving in to kiss her. He smelled like a forty of vodka. Astrid pushed him back hard, turning her face away from him.

"We're broken up, you stupid _lout_."

"Can't blame a guy for trying," he said, grinning stupidly.

She really wanted to hit him. "Yes, actually, I can."

"Snugglebuns!"

Astrid's face pinched in disgust. "Fuck off, Scott."

She spun away from him and grabbed a red solo cup out of some hapless party-goer's hand. Astrid tilted the contents of the cup into her mouth and swallowed hard. It was cheap beer that tasted like piss and sorrow. Ruff found her leaning against her dining room wall, staring into the dregs of her plastic cup. Ruff peered over the edge of the cup.

"Do you read beer foam? Does it tell you the future?" Ruff asked.

Astrid glanced at her. "I wish."

"Why so glum, chum?"

"I hate this party. Look at these people. It's just a cesspool of drunken morons using my house as an excuse to rub up on each other."

"You invited them."

Astrid scoffed. "Don't remind me."

"You invited Scott," Ruff said, pushing.

Astrid released a growl of frustration. "He's such a dick."

Ruff shrugged. "He _has_ a dick."

Astrid glared at her. "This was a terrible idea."

"Nah," Ruff said, her attention directed toward the kitchen, "I mean, you wanted everyone to know that you and Scott were broken up, right?"

"Yeah, so?" Astrid asked, arms crossed. She finally looked into the kitchen where Scott had clearly attached his face on some random sophomore's face. Astrid thought that she should probably feel _something_ while witnessing that scene, but she didn't. The only thing she felt was delayed embarrassment for herself.

"Did we look like that?" Astrid asked, her face scrunched up in repugnance.

Ruff shrugged but didn't answer.

A flash of green, a shock of auburn hair, those _damn_ shoulders. Hiccup paused in the doorway to the kitchen, eyes wide in surprise as he took in the display that was Scott sucking some girl's face off. He looked across the room, catching Astrid's eye through the archway to the dining room. As quickly as their eyes had touched, he'd dropped his and pivoted away from the doorway and out of her view. He was replaced in the doorway by Fishlegs whose expression would have been comical if Astrid had not simultaneously been excited and confused by Hiccup's appearance at her party. Sure, she'd invited him, but she hadn't expected him to come. Right? Then why was she so… She felt so…_light._ Like whatever it was that she'd been waiting for had _arrived._

But that was preposterous because the only things that had arrived were Hiccup and Fishlegs.

"Oh, yes! The nerd brigade has arrived!" Ruff said, rubbing her hands together delightedly.

"What?"

"Did you not just see Hiccup and Fishlegs? Prime corruptible nerdmeat."

"Hiccup isn't," Astrid said too sharply.

Ruff turned on her and raised her eyebrows.

"I mean, he dated Heather. I'm sure he's already corrupted," Astrid amended quickly. The words tasted bitter and heavy in her mouth. For some reason she really didn't like to think of Heather and Hiccup doing anything that might end in his corruption.

Ruff narrowed her eyes. "I'm sure there are things he doesn't know," she suggested slowly.

Astrid felt irrationally angry. She didn't seem to want to think about Ruffnut corrupting Hiccup either. "Not. Hiccup."

Ruff laughed, loud and pealing. Loud enough to break Scott out of his face-sucking reverie (which was probably for the best since the girl was starting to turn a little blue). Astrid crossed her arms and turned away from her friend.

"I knew it!" Ruff cackled.

"Shut up. You don't know anything."

"Astrid and Harrison, sitting in a tree," Ruff sang.

Astrid turned on her heel and grabbed the collar of Ruff's shirt. "Don't you say another word," Astrid hissed through gritted teeth.

Ruff was laughing hysterically. Her brother popped up seemingly out of nowhere. "Are you hitting people? Can you do me next?"

Astrid rolled her eyes and dropped Ruff, who was _still_ laughing at her. Astrid pushed Tuff out of the way roughly and stomped into the living room. She glared at everyone sitting on the couch and at the people sitting near the window and on the floor. She marched through the living room, past more idiotic party goers – her supposed friends – and down the stairs into the basement. She froze at the base of the stairs because she'd found him. His back was pressed up against the far wall of the rec room, a red plastic cup in hand and a terrified expression locked on his face. He'd been cornered by Lily Dagur who was gesturing madly with her hands as she talked.

Hiccup's facial expressions were constantly changing, twisting from attentive to surprised to wary in seconds. There was a familiarity in that face – a face she'd known most of her life – but there was something _else_ there, too. A strengthening of his jaw that matched the broadening of his shoulders. A thinning out of cheeks that used to be sweetly pinchable. No one had ever known this – she'd never told anyone at all – but before he'd broken her wrist in third grade, well, and _during_, and maybe even after for a year or so, she'd _liked_ Harrison Haddock. She'd written out their names and framed them in little hearts. She'd doodled _Mrs. Astrid Haddock_ in her notebooks more times than she'd ever willingly admit. She'd also ripped the pages out and tore them into indecipherable bits. But her heart wasn't something she could dispose of so easily.

She couldn't… she couldn't _like_ him now. That didn't make any sense. They'd barely spoken two words to each other since ninth grade. She didn't know anything about him anymore. All she knew was that he was smart and could never accept not having the last word. And that he bit his bottom lip when he was concentrating really hard on something. She knew that his lips had a tendency to twitch upward at the corners when he thought someone was being stupid (like they were while he talked to Lily). She knew that her heart seemed to pound every time his eyes touched her, even for a second. Like they did now.

His face lost expression when he looked up and saw her staring at him. Astrid didn't look away; she didn't want to look away. Even from the other side of the room, his eyes were so vividly green. He'd been cute when she'd had her third grade crush, but now? Now he was edging into something _else_. Now his angles were sharper and it was _distracting._ She wanted to touch them all. All of them at once. Astrid bit her bottom lip, overtaken by a sudden bout of indecision. There was the part of her that wanted to forge forward and just _take_ what she wanted and then there was this new part of her that didn't really know what to do. She felt exposed under his unyielding gaze. Her tight, short skirt felt stupid and slutty. Her shirt was too constricting. She tugged self-consciously at her ponytail, suddenly feeling like everything with her appearance was _wrong_. Feeling like she didn't want to be seen like _this._ That she didn't want _Hiccup_ to see her like this.

Lily's cup grazed dangerously close to Hiccup's nose and the trance was broken. Astrid blinked and hugged herself, running back up the stairs and into the kitchen. She grabbed a cup out of Tuff's hand and slugged it back. More piss beer.

"Blech!"

"Whoa there, Snugglebuns. You shouldn't drink so much," Scott said. From anyone else's mouth, it would have sounded concerned. From Scott it sounded both condescending and predatory.

Astrid didn't bother to answer Scott. She just turned herself around and stamped up the stairs to the second floor. Ignoring the various and sundry people making out in every corner of her house, she opened the door to her bedroom and slammed it shut behind her. Thankfully no one had dared to invade her bedroom for their nonsense. Astrid threw herself on her bed and stared at her ceiling where she'd arranged glow-in-the-dark stars in a proper constellation arrangement of the night sky.

She didn't like Hiccup talking to other girls. She didn't like that she didn't like Hiccup talking to other girls. Or being with other girls. She didn't like the way she wasn't sure of herself when she was standing in front of him. She didn't like feeling things about _Hiccup_. It went against the natural order of things.

Frustrated, she hurled a pillow at her door. Her door "oomphed" in reply and she bolted upright, ready to hurl something harder at the intruder in her room. A blue-grey cat hammered into the room and jumped onto the bed.

"Stormfly!" Astrid exclaimed, uncurling her fingers from around the lamp in order to pet her cat.

"Astrid?"

His voice cracked in the darkness and her heart slammed against her chest and against her will. Oh god, she wasn't strong enough for this. Hiccup was in her bedroom.


	4. Tongue Tied

_AN: Wow, guys! I'm so excited and happy that you like this story! Thank you so much for reading! :)_

**Chapter song: Tongue Tied by Grouplove**

From the moment he'd walked through the front door of Astrid's house and seen Scott attached with vacuum-like precision to some girl (who was not Astrid, thankfully), Hiccup had been sorry that he'd come to the party. He couldn't unsee that. On one hand, it was great that it _wasn't_ Astrid. On the other hand, Astrid been staring at him as though she hadn't thought he'd actually show up; as though his presence at her party had personally offended her. It probably had. Someone had shoved a beer in his hand and he'd wandered down into the basement, as far away from Astrid and Scott as possible. Frankie, however, was fascinated by the whole landscape that was a house party. He was practically taking notes.

"I think we should go," Hiccup said, "This was a mistake."

"I am _not_ leaving," Frankie said.

That's when Lily Dagur had caught Hiccup's arm. "Harry? Oh my god, it _is_ you!"

"Hey, Lily," Hiccup said, trying to sound more excited than he was.

He wasn't excited. In fact, he nervously glanced around the room in search of her brother.

"Is Nick here?" he asked warily.

"Nope. I came with some guy from your school. How long's it been since I've seen you last?"

Hiccup shrugged helplessly. "A year? Maybe?"

He really could have gone a few more, if he were to be honest.

"Oh my god!" Lily said rolling her eyes, "I have _got _to tell you all about Paris, then!"

"Great," Hiccup said, taking a long drink of his beer. It tastes like the bitter tears of a lonely man. And maybe horse piss.

There were a hundred fifty thousand things Hiccup would have rather been doing than listening to a very drunk Lily talk about Paris. And shoes. And handbags. The only saving grace was that Nick wasn't there. He'd be with Heather and he was…_Nick_. Frankie or no Frankie, Hiccup would turn and walk straight out the door if Nick was there. That guy would creepily stick to Hiccup the whole night, undoubtedly telling him about some skinny kid he'd tortured because he'd had the misfortune of reminding him of Hiccup.

Then there was Astrid. He didn't know how long she'd been standing at the bottom of the stairs, but she was _staring_ at him. When Hiccup saw her there, he couldn't help staring back because _good god_ she was beautiful. No, beautiful was too trite a word. She was magnificent, glorious, radiant, brilliant, superlative, exceptional, striking - _perfect_. She didn't wear outfits like that to school; she probably couldn't. Hiccup didn't think he'd known that her legs were that long and golden, or that they'd even made skirts that short.

Lily almost hit Hiccup in the face with her drink. He'd flinched back and when he looked up again, Astrid was gone. He just caught a peek at her back as she turned into the kitchen. Lily hadn't noticed that he wasn't listening to a word she said. Hiccup swallowed the rest of his beer and set the empty cup down on table so he could put his hands on Lily's shoulders.

"Lily, I have to go."

"Go?"

"To…the bathroom," he lied lamely.

"Oh!" she said brightly, "Have to make a pee?"

Hiccup bit his bottom lip to keep from laughing. "Yes," he said very seriously and slowly, "I have to make a pee."

"Okay, well just come right back. I haven't even told you about Pierre!"

"Yeah, sure, that sounds great."

He was already taking the basement stairs two at a time until he was at the entrance of the kitchen. Scott was sucking that girl's face off again and someone was filming it with their phone. Hiccup shook his head in revulsion and bounded into the living room. No Astrid. He took the stairs to the second floor two at a time. There were four closed doors. Behind door number one, Hiccup could hear someone puking. He sincerely hoped that it was the bathroom. A sound from behind him made him turn around. There was a blue-grey cat scratching at door number two. The cat turned and meowed at him. Hiccup grinned and bent down to scratch the cat's head. Cats liked him. Frankie called him the cat whisperer.

"You want in here?" he asked the cat.

The cat responded by weaving in and out of his legs. He put his hand on the doorknob and turned before his brain had registered the sign hanging on the door. It was a name. It was _her_ name. A pillow came flying out of nowhere and hit Hiccup squarely in the face.

"Oomph!"

He could feel the cat run past him into the room. He could hear her voice saying the cat's name.

"Astrid?" he said stupidly.

Her face was slack, her eyes vast. She didn't say anything and Hiccup couldn't stop saying _everything_.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to follow you. Maybe I did. But not into here. It was the cat. He wanted in—"

"She," Astrid corrected.

Hiccup was struck silent with that one word.

"Stormfly is a girl," Astrid continued, rubbing the cat's head.

Someone laughed loudly downstairs and the cat bolted into Astrid's open closet. Astrid let out an exasperated sigh.

"Can you shut the door, please?"

"Oh, sure. Sorry." Hiccup said, disappointment flooding his whole body. Just like that he'd been dismissed from Astrid's room. Hiccup took a step outside the room and reached behind him to close the door.

"Hey, where are you going?"

Hiccup glanced over his shoulder and raised his eyebrows. "I was gonna—Never mind. I'm not going anywhere."

He stepped back in and closed the door, muffling the sounds from below to a dull, thumping cacophony. The relative silence of Astrid's room made Hiccup think that she could definitely hear his heartbeat. Astrid shifted on her bed, pushing herself to the edge, rucking her already short skirt further up her thighs. Hiccup swallowed and looked away. He was sure she couldn't possibly know how breathtaking she was in the dim light of her bedside lamp.

"We call her Stormfly because when it storms, she _flies_," she explained, slipping off the bed and crawling on the carpeted floor.

"Stormy," she called with a high-pitched, coaxing voice, "Stormy, come here."

"I guess she flies when the bass drops, too, huh?" Hiccup said, running his finger along the edge of her dresser.

Astrid looked up at him from the floor, an incredulous smirk on her face. "When the bass drops? Really?"

He shrugged and turned his back to her because he really couldn't watch her crawling around on the floor in that skirt. He couldn't. He'd die.

"Not my smoothest," he admitted.

"Never took you for 'smooth'."

"Oh, well thank you very much," he said sarcastically. He winced at his tone and stared at the ceiling. Hiccup narrowed his eyes at the shapes on the ceiling and bit his bottom lip. Astrid said something and he missed it because were those _constellations_ on her ceiling? He twisted and looked at the yellow stars affixed to her ceiling. Astrid said something else and this time she sounded much closer. He tore his eyes away from the stars on her ceiling and found her standing right in front of him, looking at him expectedly.

"What?" he asked stupidly, completely lost in her eyes.

Astrid rolled her eyes but smiled softly. "Nothing."

She walked to her bed and threw herself backward on it.

"Are those—I mean, they _are_ constellations."

"Yeah, so?" Astrid said almost defensively.

"I just didn't think you'd be into that," he said haltingly.

Astrid snorted. "Shows what you know."

She narrowed her eyes at him and caught her bottom lip with her teeth, considering. Then she patted the bed beside her. "You can see them better from here. They're in the right place."

Hiccup hesitated, eyes wide. Had Astrid Hofferson just invited him to lie down on her bed? No, he must've read those signs wrong. That couldn't be right. He stared at her as she looked at her ceiling. Then those blue eyes caught him and she frowned.

"Why are you just standing there? Come here," she said. She sounded both exasperated and small.

Hiccup had to force his legs to work. The felt leaden and unmovable. He couldn't believe that he was currently in Astrid Hofferson's room, walking around her bed, and that in a few seconds he would be laying down next to her. He was going to lie down on Astrid's bed. Astrid's _bed._ He paused at the edge of the bed and just stared at her, lying there with her ponytail haloing around her head on her pillow.

"Don't be weird. Just lay down," she said without looking at him.

He sat down on the edge of the bed and then woodenly pivoted his legs onto the bed, lying down next to Astrid as stiffly as humanly possible. He was so very aware of the waves of heat coming off her body. He could smell her shampoo; he could hear her breaths. He was pretty sure someone had slipped drugs into his drink because this could not possibly be reality.

Astrid turned her face toward him very slightly and spoke, the words catching strangely in her throat. "Shut off the light. It's on your side of the bed."

_Your side of the bed_, she'd said. He had a side to her bed. Hiccup almost forgot to breathe.

"We can see the stars better," she said, her voice stronger, sure.

Hiccup reached out with a shaking hand and turned off her bedside lamp. The room was dark except for the greenish, glowing stars on Astrid's ceiling. Neither of them said a word and after a while, Hiccup began to relax. There was nothing weird happening here. He was just hanging out with a friend. Who hadn't been his friend this morning. Oh, yeah, and there was the fact that she was utterly gorgeous.

Not being able to see her was actually better. She wasn't Astrid the untouchable deity; she was Astrid the girl who was lying next to him. Astrid who was avoiding her own party. Astrid with a Russian Blue cat. Astrid with constellations made of glow-in-the-dark stars on her ceiling. He liked this Astrid, he realized. He liked her a lot. More than the unattainable idol he'd been worshipping for so long. This Astrid was _real_.

Hiccup could make out her arm reaching up and pointing in the darkness.

"It took me forever to get Pleiades right."

"The seven heavenly sisters," Hiccup whispered, "Can't imagine they'd be easy."

Astrid snorted and giggled. Hiccup choked and flushed, glad for the darkness of the room.

"I didn't mean—I meant that they'd be—"

Astrid only laughed harder. Then she curled toward him, just slightly. Hiccup stayed completely and utterly still, his heart pounding noisily in his chest. She wasn't touching him but his body was coiled up with tension, expecting everything and nothing all at once.

"It's okay," she said, her voice light, "I have a thing for the Great Nebula below Orion's belt."

Hiccup snorted. "Perv," he said before he could stop himself.

"Whatever! The seven heavenly sisters are _easy_, apparently."

"They're _not_ easy, thank you. I prefer my goddesses hard to get."

She shifted next to him, the mattress giving under her weight. "Do you?" she whispered, her breath tickling his lips.

Then she kissed him.


	5. Too Too Too Fast

_AN: Well, this is your last chance to jump ship before things get smutty...because things are about to get_ smutty.

**Chapter song: Too Too Too Fast by Ra Ra Riot**

Astrid hadn't really meant to kiss Hiccup. At least that hadn't been her intention when the night had started out. He was _Hiccup, _for Christ's sake. He was this painful little nerd who managed to constantly blow shit up and ruin social events. He hadn't even been a _person_ in Astrid's mind until earlier this week.

That wasn't exactly true. No, he'd been a person. He just hadn't exactly been a _viable _person. But then again, maybe she'd really started noticing him last winter when he'd first started dating Heather. She hated Heather. She hated Hiccup by extension. Except she really hadn't. Hiccup, with Heather's arm looped through his, was more appealing than she'd ever wanted to admit. Here she was on top of the high school food chain, hanging off Scott Jorgensen, and there _they _were, somehow threatening the balance of the universe. It had made Astrid think, even if she hadn't acknowledged it. She had started to _think_ about not just Hiccup, but all the things she'd taken for granted in high school life. She'd started to think about how she hadn't _needed_ to be with Scott just because it seemed to make sense. She'd started to think about what she actually wanted. It had just taken her months and months to act on that.

So, she hadn't meant to kiss Hiccup and yet it was an inevitable reality in her life. She was always meant to kiss Hiccup. So she did. And it was awful. Mostly because he had gone so _stiff_. It was like kissing a mannequin – hard and uncomfortable and _unnatural_. She thought that she'd made a mistake.

"Sorry," she breathed, pulling back.

Hiccup didn't say anything at first and she suddenly felt stupid. Very, very stupid. Why had she assumed that he would want her to kiss him? What a stupid, selfish assumption. Jesus, could things get any worse? She rolled back onto her side of the bed and stared at Sirius, the brightest star in the sky. It glowed the same dull yellow-green as the rest of them. If she focused on the sound of her own ragged breaths, she could almost forget that there was another person lying on her bed. Another person who she'd just kissed and who had clearly not wanted her to kiss him. Fuck.

"Astrid." Hiccup's voice was a rasping, jarring thing.

"Mmm?"

"Did you actually kiss me?"

She bit her bottom lip. "Mmhmm."

"Okay. Just checking."

Silence again.

"Should we—Should we try that again?" he asked, his voice timid.

Astrid rolled her head so she could look at his profile. Stubborn brows brought down, jaw set. He seemed determined.

"We don't have to," she said, her voice softer than she'd thought possible.

He rolled his head toward her. "Oh."

"Unless you want to," she added hastily. Because she wanted to. But only if he wanted to. Because she really didn't believe that the mannequin kiss was the best he had to offer. She _refused_ to believe that.

_I want to_, he mouthed in the dark. The right side of her mouth crept upward and he grinned slightly in response. There was this perfect moment in time where they were poised before moving into that kiss. It was this wonderful instance of understanding and calling that Astrid hadn't felt before. It told her that even if this kiss was shit, she would be drawn to him. Because there was more to them. There was something tugging on her heart that ended with Hiccup. With Harrison.

She craned her neck toward him and he tilted his head as he moved toward her. Hiccup rolled slightly, his hand brushing the side of her waist. Astrid's heart pounded as his eyes dropped to her lips before closing.

This time was different. This time his mouth was soft and yielding and warm. This time felt inexplicably _right_. As though there was something in Astrid that said, "Yes, this is it! This is what is should be like." They fit together, her head tilting in the opposite direction to his, her lips melding into his. She brushed her tongue against his too soft lips and then past them, exploring his mouth. They rolled into each other, her hand resting on his shoulder – such a strong, _damn_ shoulder – and his hand sliding from the side of her waist to the flat of her back, solid and supportive.

Astrid liked the way they fit together. She liked how her mouth worked against his. She liked how they kept inching closer and closer to each other. She liked how he smelled and tasted and felt. It was somehow familiar without being familiar at all. It was somehow right and perfect and _wonderful_, as though everything else had been a complete waste of time when compared to this moment.

Hiccup broke the kiss and Astrid found herself leaning into him, trying unconsciously to make him keep kissing her.

"Wow," he breathed.

She smiled as his intense eyes stared at her face, dazed and wide and delightfully innocent.

"Yeah," she agreed.

His hand came up to her face, smoothing stray hairs away. He opened his mouth like he would say something, but then seemed to change his mind. Instead his brow took a stubborn line as his hand reached up and pulled tentatively on the tie in her hair. It didn't give right away and he pulled his hand back as though it had been burned. Astrid smiled.

"Pull it out," she said, "It doesn't hurt."

He bit his bottom lip in concentration and she grinned as she watched his face. All of his focus was on pulling her stupid hair tie out and he was so _fucking _adorable. He had her hair tie most of the way out when she flung herself at him, her mouth crashing into his without any warning. His fingers tangled in her hair as she rolled on top of him, her knees on either side of his lean body. Her hands were on either side of his face; his hands were all over her – in her hair, down her back, barely grazing the top of her ass. She kissed him with violent fervour, as though she wanted to devour him. As though this would be her only chance. It was possible it could be.

Astrid broke the kiss and moved to peck his neck, nibble on his earlobe. He groaned in her ear, his breath unstable. His hands gripped at her, pulled her closer to him. God, oh god, why hadn't she been kissing Hiccup for years and years and years? Hiccup seemed to gain some purchase on himself and caught her long golden hair in a loose fist, pulling it away to expose her throat. He kissed her with hot, merciless lips against the sensitive skin at the curve where her neck met her shoulder; she bucked her hips into his, unsurprised to find him hard but surprised to find him so near.

"Astrid," he moaned into her skin.

She bucked again and he groaned, gripping her to him with firm fingers. Astrid found his mouth again and gave him a long, lingering kiss, letting her tongue take its time tangling with his. She could kiss Hiccup all night, she realized. She could kiss him all night and never get bored. He was anything but boring.

Astrid pulled away from him and sat back on his hips, feeling him pressing back at her from within his jeans. She looked down at him as she pulled off her shirt. She wondered what exactly she was doing and then she reminded herself that she didn't really _care_ what she was doing. It felt right. Hiccup's too wide eyes and open mouth made it all feel really, really right.

Astrid took his hands in hers and pressed them against her breasts. He stared at her in this sort of vacant awe, eyes huge and hands still. Then he brushed his thumbs tentatively against her. She felt her nipples grow hard and tight inside her bra. She wished he'd stop torturing her and just take her bra off. With a frustrated growl, she came down on him again, kissing him ferociously. He answered with equal ferocity, his hands still on her breasts. His cautious fingers lost abandon as they kissed and she groaned as he kneaded and toyed with her. Astrid curved her shoulders forward, letting the straps of her bra fall down her upper arms. She pulled back, her breathing heavy, daring Hiccup to touch her. His hand was searing against her bare lower back as he lifted himself up to kiss her collarbone, his free hand working to pull down the left cup of her bra. The fabric was replaced with the skin of his hand, silken save for the callouses that graced his fingers, and she arched into him. Nimble fingers gently squeezed and caressed her, a rough thumb brushed against her taut nipple. Then it was his tongue, velvety and scorching against her. She made a sound, girlish and unfamiliar. God, how was he doing that? Making her make noises she'd never made before.

Hiccup pulled back and it took Astrid a moment to register what was happening. She looked down.

"What?" she asked, dazed.

Hiccup frowned. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

Astrid chuckled. "No, you definitely didn't."

She leaned down and kissed him hard on the mouth again. He was lost in the kiss, his hands locked on either side of her rib cage. Astrid wanted to feel his skin against hers; she wanted to feel completed by him. Her hands slid down to the hem of his t-shirt and skirted the edge, fingers grazing the soft skin over harder than expected lean muscles. Would everything about Hiccup be unexpected? She wanted to touch all of him with all of her. She gripped the soft, pilling fabric of his t-shirt and yanked it up. It caught at his armpits and he let go of her to put his arms over his head so she could pull it off the rest of the way. Astrid pressed her lips into his the skin of the pale column of his throat, nipping and teasing. His hands were on her thighs, fingers toying with the hem of her skirt.

Astrid put two hands on his bare shoulders – relishing the heat and softness and firmness of those _damn_ shoulders – and pushed him back flat against the bed. She ran her hand, palm flat and fingers spread wide, down the plane of his chest, his flat stomach, and then further, pressing and rubbing the length of him under the seam of his jeans. Hiccup's head went back, eyes closed. The supine pose sent her heartbeat racing. God, she wanted him. She actually, really _wanted_ him. For a minute she tried to tell herself that it was because of Heather, but it wasn't. She really couldn't care less about fucking Heather.

Astrid reached for the button of Hiccup's jeans and he flinched, his hands tightening on the sides of her thighs. She looked at him and found a pair of nearly black eyes staring back at her, big and almost frightened.

"What's wrong?" she asked, still working at his jeans, pulling the zipper of his fly down slowly.

He flinched again, his eyes still wide.

"What?" she repeated, mildly annoyed.

"I just…I've never…"

"You've never _what_?" she asked, sliding her hand down the front of his boxers and gripping him in her hand and pumping.

"Unnggh."

"That wasn't even a word," Astrid laughed.

Hiccup sat up and grabbed her wrist to stop the motion. He breathed heavily into her shoulder.

"Astrid," he managed to push out, "Just…hold still. Very serious."

She grinned at him and tried to move her hand again.

"Maybe we should stop," he said.

Astrid frowned. "Why would we want to do that?"

"Because – because, how much have you had to drink?" he asked, pulling his head up to stare her in the face.

She shrugged.

"There. That's a good reason."

"How much have you had?"

Hiccup shrugged. "I'm beginning to think that someone slipped me some amazing hallucinogenic drugs, to be honest."

Astrid grinned lopsidedly. "You'd hallucinate about me?"

Hiccup glowered at her. "That's not the point."

"See? I have my wits about me."

"Do you even know who I am?"

Astrid put her hands on either side of his waist and leaned into his face, so close it was hard to focus on his eyes. "I know exactly who you are, Harrison Haddock."

Hiccup's mouth fell open, his eyes adorably open again. Astrid leaned in and kissed him slowly, languorously. He melted into her, his arms circling her waist and tugging her against his chest. They both gasped when their skin made contact, tingling with sensation. Astrid slid a hand between them, down, down, down into his boxers again. Hiccup stiffened once again and grabbed her by the shoulders, breaking their kiss.

"Astrid, I've never done…_this_," he said rapidly, gesturing between their bodies.

"This?" she asked, looking at his hand.

Realization dawned on her and was quickly overrun by unshakable disbelief.

"You've never had sex?" she asked incredulously.

Hiccup looked away from her, face miserable, and she knew it was true.

"You mean Heather never-?"

Hiccup seemed to shrink away from her and look even more miserable. He wouldn't look at her and Astrid shook her head to herself. Heather was an idiot. Astrid's hand caught Hiccup's chin and tilted his face to her.

"Hey," she said softly.

He looked up at her.

"She doesn't know what she's missing."

Astrid surged her lips into his; pushed her whole body into his. His mouth was slack for a split second, surprised by her affection, and then he responded, kissing her back. Astrid broke free and hugged him, tilting her head into his ear.

"Her loss."

They were kissing again and his hands grazed the back of her bra. The kiss was gentle and Hiccup pulled away from her mouth.

"Maybe we should stop," he repeated.

Astrid ignored him and kissed his neck, just below his ear. He made an unintelligible noise.

"I just," he gasped, "I don't want to be your _regret_."

His words gave her pause and she pulled back to look at his face. It didn't feel like a rejection, the way he was trying to push her away, barely able to contain himself and so bitterly saying words she knew he meant but didn't really want to say. Another guy - Scott _for sure_ - would take what she was offering without thinking twice. No, she didn't feel rejected; what she felt was _respected_.

Astrid swept her fingers along his jawline and smiled, staring into his eyes.

"I want this," she said, her voice strong, "I want _you._"

Hiccup's face pinched, perplexed. "Why would you want _me_?"

Astrid leaned in and kissed along the line where her fingers had just been. "I don't know. This strong jawline probably has something to do with it," she said before kissing his mouth, "And your sharp, snarky little mouth. And because you don't like your goddesses easy."

"Sometimes I do."

Astrid looped her arms around his neck and ran her hands over his shoulder blades. "Because of these damn shoulders," she continued, pausing to pick up one of his hands in hers and pressing her lips to his knuckles, "Because of all these stupid, little scars."

"Battle wounds," he corrected.

Her eyes locked on his again and her heart started to pound violently. Because she really did want him and not just tonight. "Because when you look at me it makes me feel like I'm _magic_," she whispered.

"You _are_ magic," he whispered back.

She smiled. "You say things like that and you have to ask _why_?"

Hiccup pulled her into him and kissed her. It was unexpected and absolutely brilliant. His hands were on her back, strong and supportive, callouses digging in and sending sensations through her skin. God, she wanted him. He pressed tiny kisses along her collarbone while his hands slipped around and fumbled with the clasp of her bra. He finally managed it and pulled her bra down her arms, staring at her chest.

"Don't tell me you've never seen those before," she laughed.

"I've never seen yours."

"God, you're adorable," she breathed.

"Great. That's just what I was going for – adorable," he said sarcastically.

"It's not a bad thing."

"Easy for you to say."

"If you weren't adorable, we wouldn't be here," she said.

Hiccup opened his mouth to argue with her, but she silenced him with a kiss. Astrid pushed him down, kissing him still, and kneeled over him. She took one of his hands and slid it up her inner thigh. She glided her hand along the back of his hand and intertwined their fingers loosely. Then she guided his hand between her legs, rubbing his fingers rhythmically against her. She gasped and pulled her hand away from his once he seemed to have the gist. Astrid closed her eyes, her hands resting on his shoulders as he touched her. She knew he was watching her face and while she felt self-conscious about it initially, she lost all sense of reason when he pushed her underwear aside so he could touch her directly.

Astrid bit her lip, gasping and bucking into his hand. Hiccup was relentless and she started to wonder if he'd been lying about being a virgin. Maybe he was just a quick learner. Wasn't he good with his hands? Did she even have to ask that? _Fuck_, he was good with his hands. Hiccup moved his hand lower, the tips of his fingers just grazing her opening. She wanted him inside her, but lacked completely the presence of mind to tell him so. Carefully, uncertainly, he slipped a finger inside her with torturous slowness. She bucked into his hand hard, his hot palm bumping her clit, his finger sliding in completely. It took a minute, but he found a rhythm with his hand and Astrid felt herself rising and rising and rising. She cried out when she peaked, shuddering against his hand.

His name, she had called out. No, not his name. _Hiccup_.

"Oh no," he muttered in dismay.

"What?"

"I…uh…," he mumbled gesturing vaguely at his crotch.

She looked down, confused. She looked at Hiccup who was looking away, embarrassed. She knew his cheeks would be stained with a bright pink blush, even if she couldn't see it. _Oh,_ she thought, _I wasn't the only one who got off on that._ Something about that fact made her feel _proud_ somehow. She leaned in and kissed him again.

"That's okay," she said lightly.

He didn't answer, but his jaw worked. She kissed the corner of his jaw.

"It'll take you longer next time," she said.

Hiccup scoffed. "Next time."

Astrid kept kissing him - his jaw, his neck, his earlobe. "Mmm," she agreed, "Next time. In - what would you say? Fifteen, twenty minutes, maybe?"

He turned his head to look at her, eyes wide and disbelieving again. "You're not," he swallowed, "finished?"

"Oh no," she said, grinning into the hollow below his ear, "I'm not finished with you yet."


	6. Closer

_AN: I've had a lot of questions/comments about continuing this story, etc. Just to reiterate: this is a __**prologue**__ to a much longer story that I am still writing. That story will have a plot beyond getting laid, I promise. Tongue Tied is basically the smutty lead in to this other story._ _I hope that answers some questions for you. Now, on with the smut!_

**Chapter song: Closer by Tegan & Sara**

Hiccup stared at Astrid in absolute disbelief. What the _hell_ was happening tonight? Well, he knew what was happening. It was happening to him. He'd just had his finger _inside_ of Astrid Hofferson's body. He'd just made her come. With his hand. He'd made Astrid come with his hand. He didn't even know what to do with that information; he couldn't even process it. Everything was happening so quickly that his brain – _his _brain – couldn't even compute it all. And had he just heard her properly? Had she just suggested that she wasn't _finished_? Had that actually just happened?

He felt himself growing hard already, his body refusing to obey the laws of physiology. Astrid had crawled off him and was curled into his side, her cheek soft against his shoulder, her hand rested on his chest, her ankle locked around his calf. Hiccup was afraid to move for fear that this would all disappear before his eyes. That if he shifted the wrong way, she might remember who he was and run screaming from the room. He hazarded a glance at her. God, she was _beautiful_ with her hair down and her eyes contentedly hooded. Hiccup wanted to touch all of her before this bizarre dream ended. He couldn't stop his eyes from dropping to her breasts, small and creamy and impeccable.

There were freckles on her shoulders and he wanted to kiss them. He remembered suddenly that he'd promised himself that if the opportunity ever presented itself, he'd kiss all of her freckles. There was, he decided, no better opportunity than now, when she was bizarrely attracted to him and letting him touch her in places he'd only dreamed about touching. His mind wandered to how she had felt surrounding his finger – tight and slippery and warm; inviting. Hiccup bit his lip to stop himself from groaning at the memory. And the sound of her voice when she'd gasped his name. Not his name. She'd gasped _Hiccup_. There was a part of him that wanted to be indignant and hurt by the use of his nickname when she'd been the only one with the distinction of having not used that name to address him, ever. But there was another part of him that reminded him that she'd said his full name earlier and that if she was going to say _Hiccup_ in _that_ voice under _those_ circumstances, well, he didn't really mind. He was so far away from minding.

Hiccup was staring at those freckles and listening to the pounding of his own blood in his ears. He wanted to kiss her freckles. Astrid shifted and glanced at him with enormous blue eyes. There was a smile playing at the corner of her lips.

"You're staring," she said, amused.

"I don't know how anyone couldn't."

Her smile grew and she drew her fingers along his chest, biting her bottom lip. Hiccup really couldn't take just _looking _at her anymore. He rolled onto his side and caught her shoulder with his hand. His eyes scanned her face before he leaned in and kissed that freckle on her shoulder. Astrid shifted against him and he gently pushed her shoulder so that she rolled to lay flat on the bed. Hiccup pushed himself up on his elbow and rolled, pushing his knee between her thighs and pushing himself up to hover over her on all fours. Astrid looked up at him with expectant, excited eyes. He bent over to kiss the freckle on her right cheekbone. It was by far his favourite freckle on her face. It had been there for as long as he could remember. But, of course he had to kiss the freckle next to that one, and the one next to that one. He was peppering her face with tiny kisses and Astrid laughed. It was a delighted, _delightful_ sound that made Hiccup smile.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"I promised myself," he said between kisses, "that if the opportunity ever arose, I would kiss all of your freckles."

Astrid went quiet and Hiccup kissed her nose before he drew back. Her face was slack and she was staring at him with questioning eyes.

"You've thought about kissing my freckles?" she asked, her voice small and incredulous. The bass of the party that was still raging outside of this room penetrated the silence.

Hiccup shrugged weakly. She probably thought he was a creep now. Why couldn't he just keep his stupid mouth shut? Why was he always _talking_?

"How often?" she asked, her voice unexpectedly husky.

"What?"

"How often do you think about kissing my freckles?" she asked, biting her bottom lip again.

He grinned. "All the time. Every day. Several times a day."

She smiled at him and it was sweet and sexy and endearing all at once.

"There must be a few you don't know about," she said teasingly.

"Yes, I'm sure. I plan on finding them all. None of them will escape my kisses."

Hiccup bent down again and traced kisses along the freckles on her chin, her neck, her other shoulder, the smattering on her chest. Of course he was getting into territory where there weren't any freckles – the light, untouched skin of her breasts, marked only by rosy nipples. His tongue darted out and swirled around her nipples causing her to arch into him, her knees clamping on his thigh between her legs.

"Those aren't freckles," she panted.

"I don't care," he breathed into her skin.

Her fingers nestled into his hair, gently pushing his head into her body, gasping and arching when he delicately drew his teeth along her nipple. Astrid moaned and writhed beneath him.

"You make it hard to believe that you've never done this before," she admitted.

Hiccup smiled into her skin, letting the compliment sink in fully before a wave of anxiety flowed over him. He really hadn't had sex before. What if she expected him to be good at it and he wasn't? What if he didn't last very long? He'd already proven that he couldn't even handle having his _finger_ inside her. What was going to happen when he had his…? He couldn't even complete the thought, painfully aware of his straining erection. He pulled up and sat back on his heels, gazing fitfully at Astrid's prone body beneath him. Catching his bottom lip with his teeth, he put his hands on her hips, his thumbs hooking in the waistband of her skirt. Hiccup watched her face, waiting for some sign that she still wanted this, whatever _this_ ended up being. She nodded at him and smiled, stretching her arms above her head. With determined concentration, Hiccup pulled her skirt down over her hips, exposing pale blue sheer underwear, he kept pulling the skirt, feeling the stretchy material give when it hit the thinner part of her thighs. He had to move his leg from in between her legs to pull it off all the way. Shakily, he lifted his leg and put it back down beside her thigh. He glanced at her face one more time before pulling the skirt off and dropping it onto the floor.

Astrid Hofferson was almost naked. She was almost naked and lying there and looking at him with those _eyes_. At some point Hiccup knew he was going to have to admit that this was actually happening. At some point he would have to tell himself that he had mostly undressed Astrid _fucking_ Hofferson; that she wanted to have sex with him. Astrid wanted to have sex with _him_. Maybe he'd hit his head and this was some elaborate dream that he was having while in a comatose state. In a hospital somewhere, his erection was baffling doctors. Hiccup didn't care if it was a dream because even if it was, it was the best dream he'd ever had. He never wanted to wake up.

Hiccup crawled toward her and kissed that perfect mouth again. Astrid's hands skimmed his back while they kissed, resting finally and firmly on his shoulders. Hiccup shifted all his weight to his right arm, closing the distance between them by leaning into his forearm. He swept his free hand down the flat plane of her stomach until his fingers touched the silky soft material of her underwear. He flicked up the waistband and slid his hand inside her underwear until he found that spot again and rubbed gentle, insistent circles. Astrid whimpered into his mouth. Hiccup pushed his hand down lower, his finger touching now familiar wetness. He rubbed his palm against her and gently probed her entrance with his finger again finding her slick and ready. Astrid squirmed impatiently beneath him, kissing him frantically. He slid his finger in and out of her and she broke their kiss to moan.

"Two," she rasped.

Hiccup looked at her face, momentarily confused. Then it dawned on him. Two _fingers_. She wanted two fingers. Hiccup was pretty sure this night was going to kill him. He wondered briefly if people died from too much ecstasy. Didn't old people have heart attacks from sex? What about perfectly healthy seventeen year old boys with the luck gods on his side? (They'd never been on his side before this night, really, but who was he to quibble over details?)

Her underwear was restricting and he pulled his hand from her to yank it off. Astrid helped him, bending her knees, pointing her toes.

"Hiccup," she puffed into his ear.

His dick twitched. It actually _twitched_ at the sound of that stupid nickname he hated so much on Astrid's tongue. But if he had to be honest, there really wasn't anything on Astrid's tongue that he didn't like. Hiccup carefully slid two fingers into Astrid and her back arched sending small, perfect breasts upward. Hiccup reminded himself to breathe. He bit his lip as thrust his hand in and out of her, relishing the small noises she was making in her throat and the way her eyes were shut in pleasure. He didn't even have to have sex with her, not if this was what she looked like, if this was what she felt like just doing this.

The noises she was making were getting more frantic and grasping; she bucked her hips in rhythm with his hand. Out of nowhere, she grabbed his wrist and lifted herself.

"I want you inside me," she said very seriously.

Hiccup pulled his fingers out of her and stared at her, at a complete loss for what to do because quite frankly, it was all very overwhelming. He wanted to be inside her, as she so eloquently put it, but he was just so, so… And she was shoving at his pants and boxers now, impatiently pushing and fussing. He moved and shifted mechanically, allowing her to undress him, kicking off his jeans and pulling off his boxers.

"Shouldn't we...erm, I have a...in my wallet," he mumbled stupidly as her hands cupped his ass.

"A condom?" she said mockingly.

"Yeah, that."

"I have some here," she said. She reached into her nightstand drawer and tossed a condom at him. His fingers shook as he tried to tear the package, his hands fumbled as he pulled it out. Astrid rolled her eyes and took it from him.

"Here, let me."

She rolled it onto him with expert precision and he gasped. Astrid looked at him and then pressed the front of her body against his chest, kissing his mouth, her hand firmly wrapped around the base of his dick, the heat of it leaking through the latex. Hiccup was getting lost in her kisses again. He forgot about the objective of those kisses until Astrid spread her legs around him and pushed his hips downward toward her body. She lifted her hips, one leg hooking around his and pulling him even closer. Their kiss broke, both of them breathing heavily as the tip made contact with her. Their eyes locked as he urged forward with painstaking slowness. Her body accepted him readily and he was shocked by the heat of her, the slick, incredible heat of her. Instinct took over and he pushed deeper into her, groaning as she engulfed him. Hiccup honestly could not think of _anything_ that felt better than this. At all. Ever.

Sex was surprisingly easy when Hiccup really thought about it. His body took over, knowing instinctually what was necessary. He took cues from Astrid – kissing her, touching her, reaching underneath and cupping her immaculate ass. Speeding up and slowing down, reading her responses and the sounds she made. God, the sounds she made. The absolute truth was that if he died tonight, he would die happy.

"Faster," Astrid huffed into his ear.

Hiccup increased his pace and knew it wouldn't be long for him, but something about the mewling noises that Astrid was making with each thrust and the way her fingernails dug into his shoulders told him that she was close to an end, too. He felt pretty smug about that – it was his first time and he was successfully bringing a girl to orgasm. Her final desperate cry and violent bucking response was enough for Hiccup and his world shattered suddenly and completely.

Hiccup all but collapsed on top of Astrid, their bodies sweaty and steaming. His breaths came in heavy pants, but so did hers. He was still _inside _her and he really didn't want to come out. Astrid's fingers brushed over his shoulder blades absently.

"There's no way you're a virgin," she said defiantly.

"Not anymore."

"No way."

He pulled out of her regretfully and rolled onto his back beside her, staring at her glow-in-the-dark constellations. He tilted his head to look at her and found Astrid staring back at him, smirking. He smiled – fully and uninhibited. Her hand touched his, fingers interlocking as they laid there grinning at each other like idiots. Hiccup was so completely sure that this wasn't even happening and at the same time, he was pretty damn sure that he'd just had sex. With Astrid. He'd had sex with Astrid. When had his life gotten so perfect?

Astrid rolled onto her side and curled into him, kissing his shoulder. She yawned widely and Hiccup rolled over to face her, his fingers grazing her cheek.

"Are you tired?" he asked.

"You're very tiring."

Hiccup responded with a stupid grin, to which Astrid responded with her own dopey smile.

"You're so beautiful," he blubbered.

Astrid looked down, seemingly embarrassed. Hiccup didn't understand that – didn't people tell her she was beautiful every day? They should. He would if she'd let him.

"Are you going to take that off?" she asked, clearly changing the subject.

Hiccup looked down at the full condom and felt himself flush. He couldn't even get it on, how was he going to get it off? It couldn't be that hard, right?

"Here," she said, rolling over and grabbing a handful of Kleenexes from her nightstand and pushing them at him.

Hiccup sat up, a muscle in his jaw working as he stared down at the condom. He twisted his body away from Astrid so that he was sitting on the edge of the bed. Tentatively he pulled at the top of the condom. He felt Astrid shift behind him and felt her hands on his shoulder, the light brush of her nipples against his back. God, oh god. She sighed, exasperated.

"I take it back. You're a virgin."

"Not anymore," he insisted.

She rolled her eyes. "You can't just tug it like that, you're going to make a mess all over my room," she paused to pinch her face into a disgusted expression, "Gross."

Astrid reached around him and pinched the condom above the tip and slid it from him, tying it into a neat knot.

"See? No mess."

"I had no idea that condom removal could be so hot."

Astrid whacked the back of his head with her free hand. "Remember that technique for later. I'm not going to help you every time."

He looked over his shoulder at her. "There'll be other times?"

Her smile was lopsided and cheeky. "Maybe."

"Will I be informed of these times, or will they happen at random?"

"Hm," she murmured noncommittally, wrapping the condom in Kleenex and tossing it in her garbage.

"I'm fine either way. Just for the record," Hiccup said, holding the wad of Kleenex that Astrid had given him. He held it out uselessly and she rolled her eyes again, taking it from him and throwing it in the garbage beside her bed.

"Lay down," she directed.

Hiccup crawled under the sheets and Astrid pressed herself into the side of his body. He stretched his arm out so she could settle into the curve of his shoulder. He still couldn't believe any of this. He was still convinced that he would wake up at home, bitterly disappointed, or at a hospital where he'd spent the last ten years in a coma, dreaming about losing his virginity to Astrid Hofferson. She would be married and have five beautiful children, or something. Hiccup looked at the top of her golden head, resting on his shoulder.

"Astrid?"

"Hm?"

"This happened, right?"

"Mmhmm."

"Astrid?"

"Harrison."

"Just…I want to be sure—"

"Harrison," she repeated.

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

Hiccup closed his eyes, his body and mind exhausted (in a totally excellent way). The noise of the party below seemed miles and miles away. He could only think of two things: 1) That he really hoped when he woke up in the morning he was still in Astrid's bed; 2) He really needed to thank Frankie for making him come to this party.


	7. Sweet Disposition

**Chapter song: Sweet Disposition by The Temper Trap**

Astrid woke too early, sunlight streaming through her window and Stormfly scratching at her door. She was too warm and too comfortable to think of moving; too content to stay here forever. She opened her eyes blearily, an angular jaw with the shadow of red stubble in her immediate view. Astrid's heart sped, forcing her awake faster. Hiccup. Hiccup was in her bed. Hiccup was _naked_ in her bed. And she was naked, too, pressed into his side, her leg wrapped around his, her arm resting across his chest. His arm was curled around her body, hand resting on her hip. They fit together better than she and Scott ever had. Sharing a bed with Scott had been like sharing a bed with a yak. A yak that moonlighted as a snotty lout.

She wondered if things would be awkward now. Would Hiccup wake up and look at her in total disenchantment? _You _are_ magic_, he'd said last night. Would he still feel that way? If he didn't, Astrid wasn't sure how she'd handle that knowledge. If his eyes skimmed over her and he tugged on his jeans hastily and left to tell everyone that he'd gotten lucky last night, well, she might have to kill him. But once he was dead and in the ground, her heart would hurt. Because he was _something else_ and she didn't really know what that something else was, exactly, but she really wanted to find out. Even if it took her whole life to do it.

Stormfly scratched urgently at her door and Astrid rolled her eyes.

"Just a minute, Stormfly. Jesus," she hissed.

She really didn't want to leave the cocoon of Hiccup's arm, the warm line of his body. Sunlight accentuated the red in his hair; he was practically glowing. Stormfly meowed loudly and Astrid winced as Hiccup shifted his arm under her and turned his face toward the window. Carefully and slowly, Astrid lifted her leg off Hiccup's and pushed herself upright in the bed. She sat for a moment despite Stormfly's insistent scratching and mewing, and watched him. The rise and fall of his chest with each breath, his scarred fingers resting on his stomach, the smattering of freckles along his shoulders. His face was relaxed in sleep – no hard, stubborn line to his brow, no concentrated grimace on his lips. She wanted to touch his face. She wanted to kiss his jaw and run her hands through his hair. She wasn't sorry about last night at all.

Sighing silently, she pulled herself out of bed and reached to the floor, grabbing the first thing her hand came in contact with. It was a soft, pilling t-shirt, forest green. Hiccup's shirt. Glancing over her shoulder to be sure he was still asleep, she pulled the shirt up to her nose and breathed in deeply. It smelled clean and soapy and like his skin that she had touched and kissed and caressed the night before. Astrid tugged the shirt over her head and stood up. Hiccup wasn't a big guy and his shirt only barely covered her ass – she reached into her drawer and grabbed a pair of cotton underwear, stepped into them. Who the hell knew who was still in her house. Better to be safe than sorry when it concerned her ass and high school boys. The last thing Astrid needed was some kid instagramming her ass all over the web.

She padded across her room and opened the door. Stormfly shot out and Astrid peeked her head out checking the hall before scooting across to the bathroom. She was grateful that it wasn't coated in puke, although there were some mysterious stains on the edge of the sink that she didn't really want to think about. She stared at her reflection in the mirror while she peed. Her hair was a wild mess, her lips kiss swollen still. She looked like she'd been fucked. And, she supposed, she _had _been.

No, that wasn't right.

What had happened last night with Hiccup hadn't been just _fucking_. It had been _something else_, just like him. Because she wanted it again. Because he made her feel special and magical and _perfect_. Because he _saw_ her. Not Astrid the Student or Astrid the Athlete or Astrid the Girl Who'd Dated Scott Jorgensen (fucking lout). Just…_Astrid_.

And she'd _seen_ him, too. Not Hiccup the Nerd or Hiccup the Useless or Hiccup the Kid Who Blew Up the Chemistry Lab. Just…Hiccup. No, not even that. Because Hiccup wasn't his name. Hiccup was an awful nickname that Scott had saddled him with a hundred years ago when everything had gone so horribly wrong and hanging out with Hiccup wasn't _allowed_ anymore. When he'd been deemed too uncool to even acknowledge in normal conversation. Astrid hated herself for all the years she'd wasted being concerned about the petty social dictates of schoolyard bullies. She hated herself even more for dating their fucking ringleader. Because last night she'd _seen _Harrison Haddock and she liked what she saw. She liked it a lot.

Astrid stood up, flushed the toilet, washed her hands – all like an automaton, rigid and mechanical and dazed. She couldn't stop staring at her face and wondering what he saw in it. He'd called her beautiful. He'd kissed her freckles. He'd _seen_ her. It freaked her out, if she were to be honest with herself. Because no one ever had and the only boy who had – _did_ – was lying in her bed right now and she couldn't take if her became just another guy in the light of day. If he woke up and she no longer held whatever sparkle she had the night before; if he woke up and left, she didn't know what would happen to her.

She didn't pay a lot of attention when she left the bathroom, suddenly unconcerned as to whether or not someone was instagramming her ass. All she could think about was Hiccup, lying in her bed. And hoping that he was still lying in her bed when she got back there. That he hadn't thrown on his jeans and abandoned his t-shirt. Astrid wrapped her arms around herself as though to secure the t-shirt to her body and therefore secure Hiccup to her life. The door was ajar and she should have made note of that fact before pushing it open, but she hadn't. Her eyes widened as she caught sight of Ruff on the other side of the room, fixedly staring at Hiccup, who was still asleep in Astrid's bed. She crept toward him, her hand reaching for the sheet that covered his body. Astrid kicked her door shut and bounded across the room, tackling her friend into carpet and a pile of dirty clothes near the foot of the bed.

"Ruff, what are you doing?" Astrid hissed.

"I just wanted to peek at the goods!"

"Jesus Christ, Rachel," Astrid growled, letting her go and sitting back on her haunches.

Ruff's eyes fell to Astrid's attire and Astrid glared at her, crossing her arms across her chest. A sideways leer crept onto Ruff's face.

"So, how was it?"

"I have no idea what you are talking about," Astrid said haughtily, turning her face away.

"You're blushing. You definitely can't tell me that nothing happened."

Astrid whipped her head forward and narrowed her eyes at Ruff. "I am _not_ blushing. I do not _blush_. And, nothing happened."

"Hiccup is _naked _in your bed!" Ruff exclaimed, her voice rising in volume.

"Shut up!" Astrid hissed.

She glanced toward the bed. Hiccup had shifted and rolled over in bed, the sheet barely covering his ass. Ruff craned her neck and narrowed her eyes. Astrid grabbed her arm and stood upright, yanking Ruff with her as she marched to the door.

"Come _on_. Seriously? I just want to see."

"You don't _get_ to see."

Ruff scoffed and rolled her eyes. Astrid shoved her out the door and closed it behind them.

"Well, tell me," Ruff said expectantly, "Got a taste of nerdmeat now?"

Astrid winced. "He is not _nerdmeat_."

Ruff's eyebrows rose and she smirked amusedly. "Oh? What's this? Astrid the Knight in Shining Armour? Or green t-shirt and underwear." She analyzed Astrid closely. "Is that _his_ shirt?"

"It was the first thing I could reach."

"I doubt that," Ruff said, wiggling her eyebrows, "I'm sure there were other things you could reach."

Astrid socked her in the shoulder.

"Ow!"

"You can't say anything," Astrid hissed.

"Embarrassed already? It's okay, there's no shame in sampling meat of the nerd variety."

Astrid glowered at her. "This isn't… This is _different_, okay?"

Ruff finally looked at her more seriously. "_Different_ how?"

Astrid hugged herself. "I don't know. It just _is_."

"Wow. Wowww. Does he have a magic dick or something? If you get bored of him, can I have him?"

"I won't get bored of him!" Astrid said hotly before clamping her hand over mouth.

Ruff laughed a slow, mocking chuckle, shaking her head. "It is so completely unfair that you got to him first."

_And I'll get to him _last_,_ Astrid thought to herself. She bit back the words because they were too intense, too serious, too…_too_.

"I can't believe this," Ruff said, still shaking her head, "The mighty Astrid Hofferson felled by _Hiccup_."

"His name is Harrison."

"Damn, you've got it bad."

Astrid glared at her and opened her mouth to tell her off. But there was a muffled sound from inside the room. Astrid heard her name. Then they heard Hiccup mumbling something unintelligible. Ruff leaned toward the door with her head.

"Is he _talking_ to himself?"

Astrid shoved Ruff further into the hall. "Go away. I'm going back inside."

"Of course you are," Ruff said, grinning. Her face fell as Astrid opened the door. "Hey! I didn't get to tell you about my night! Tuff freaking stole _another_ one. He was _licking _Fishlegs' feet! Like, what the fuck?"

Astrid paused and shook her head at Ruff. "I don't even…"

Ruff shrugged and rolled her eyes. "Just go."

Astrid slipped into the room soundlessly. She pushed the door closed behind her and leaned against it. Hiccup was sitting upright in her bed, knees bent, elbows resting on them, hands shoved in his hair. His whole demeanour spoke of dismay. Astrid felt fear jolt through her. Did he regret it?

"—so _stupid_," he was muttering to himself, barely audible to Astrid, "to think that _Astrid—_"

"Hey," Astrid said quietly from the door, not sure she wanted to hear whatever else he was going to say about her.

"Astrid!" he said loudly, his head whipping up, "Astrid? Hi, Astrid."

Astrid couldn't help the grin that crept onto her face. "Hi."

Hiccup's eyes were locked on her and Astrid thought to herself that this was the point where things get awkward. This was when they awkwardly pretended that last night hadn't happened and they go back to their regularly scheduled lives. The guy is celebrated and the girl is vilified. That's how high school works, right? Unjust double standard bullshit. Astrid focused on the unfairness of societal norms instead of the possibility that Hiccup might leave. It made her angry and she crossed her arms across her chest. But Hiccup shattered her defenses with a small voice.

"I thought you left," he said. He startled as though he hadn't even realized he'd been speaking out loud. "I mean, it's _your_ house, so I guess you couldn't really leave. But I mean—"

"I went to the bathroom."

"Oh. Right. That makes sense," he said, his fingers toying with the sheet, his eyes flicking down to his knees.

Even from where she was standing, Astrid could make out the bright blush on his cheeks. She couldn't seem to get her body to move away from the door. It made her feel that she was leaving herself defenseless if she did – the goal would be wide open if she stepped away, the goalkeeper was out of play. He could leave. She hugged herself tighter again, squeezing the fabric of the t-shirt in her tight fists.

Hiccup looked up at her again, cocked his head.

"Why are you way over there?" he asked. It wasn't proposition; he didn't say it with a cocky grin. His voice had been wavering and unsure.

_So you won't leave. So last night won't end. So we don't have to break _this_, whatever this is,_ she thought. She couldn't make her mouth work; she couldn't get her body to obey her. She wanted to crawl back in bed with him and just lay there with his arms around her, feeling _right_. She wanted to just _be_ with him even though none of this really made sense. Even though a week ago she wouldn't have even considered that Harrison Haddock would be twisting her life around so violently. That he _could_.

She watched as Hiccup seemed to nod to himself and come to some decision. His back went straight and rigid and he wouldn't look at her.

"You…probably want me to go," he said.

_No. No, no, no, _she thought.

"I mean, that makes sense," he said, more to himself as he turned and hung his feet over the edge of the bed, his back to her. "Sorry. I should have realized. You probably didn't want to wake up to," he paused to gesture to himself vaguely, "_this_."

Finally, the achingly disappointed tone of his voice had snapped her into action. She took a faltering step forward and then another, watching as he reached down and grabbed his boxers and jeans. He balled his boxers up in his hand and tugged his jeans on, standing up to pull them over his hips.

"Or you could stay," she pushed out, her words hurried and slamming into one another, her voice high-pitched and desperate. She didn't care.

Hiccup spun around, his eyes huge in his face, his hands locked on either side of the waist of his unbuttoned jeans, caught mid-act. Astrid willed herself to breathe and took slow, even steps toward him, closing the distance between them. Hiccup's eyes dropped to his shirt on her body, the ghost of a smile twitching at the corner of his lips.

"Well, I can't really leave without my shirt."

Astrid grinned and stopped right in front of him. She took one of his hands in hers and brought it up to her lips, planting a kiss on a freckle at the base of his thumb. She looked up to meet his eyes and smiled at his expression. His lips were parted, pupils huge, cheeks flushed. He still looked at her like she was something special. He still looked at her as though she were something worthwhile. Her heart felt too big for her chest and her stomach twisted excitedly. She'd _never_ felt this way about _anything_ before.

"You have so many freckles for me to kiss," she said, pressing her lips to a freckle on the inside of his wrist.

Hiccup laughed – it was small and nervous and beautiful. "That's _my _line."

Astrid shrugged. "You'll come up with more."

"And you'll keep stealing them?"

"Always."

He leaned down as she stretched up on her tiptoes to meet him. She could kiss Hiccup all day.


	8. Chocolate

_AN: This is the last chapter, guys. I *am* writing a sequel/continuation, but you'll have to give me some time to get it all down. It's going to be looooooong. Thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, favourited and/or followed this story! _

**Chapter Song: Chocolate by The 1975**

Hiccup couldn't stop grinning, even though he knew he really should. He and Astrid hadn't really talked about what any of this meant or who was allowed to know about it. He wanted to tell everyone. Not about the sex – god, he'd had _sex_ with Astrid. _Twice_. But he didn't want to tell _anyone_ about that because even if it was all he was left with, at least it would be what he was left with and it would be _his_. He wanted to tell everyone that Astrid was marvelous and smart and _beautiful_. He wanted to the whole world to know how great she was and he wanted to be the one to tell _everyone_.

It was well past noon by the time they'd heard life downstairs. People were talking and moving around; someone was cooking bacon. Astrid had groaned, her arm draped over her eyes. Hiccup was sure there was nothing more attractive on earth.

"I'm so hungry," she whined.

Hiccup had never heard her whine before. He had never once associated Astrid with whining. It was so _cute_.

"Let's get up and eat, then," Hiccup said lightly.

Astrid hadn't said anything in reply. She just sucked her bottom lip into her mouth and laid there warm and soft against his body, tangled up in her sheets, still wearing Hiccup's shirt. She pulled her arm away from her eyes and regarded him with eyes of blue so vivid Hiccup wondered how they could be real. (They were. They'd been the same shade of brilliant blue since they were children.)

"There are _people_ downstairs," she said emphatically.

Hiccup tried not to let that hit show on his face. He was doing his best not admit to himself that he and Astrid were practically two different _species_. It's not like they could saunter downstairs, hands entwined and casually have breakfast with Scott and Todd and Rachel and Frankie like all of them had been old friends. (They _had_ been, but that was a long, long time ago.) Of course Astrid wouldn't want to be seen with Hiccup. Of course.

Hiccup shrugged and stared at her small hand, fingers loosely interlocked with his.

"You could go down first and I can wait a few minutes and come down after," he said, trying so hard to keep his voice casual.

There was a hesitant pause and then, "That's not what I meant."

Hiccup looked up when Astrid shifted and turned herself, tilting her head so that she could meet his downturned eyes.

"I don't want to be around people. I want to just…," she shrugged.

"It's okay, I get it."

"No, you don't," she said flatly.

Hiccup stared at her. Was she angry with him? She wasn't looking at him anymore; she was staring past him.

"The day is half over. We're going to have to leave this room at some point," he offered.

"What?"

"We're going to have to—"

"No. You said the day was half over. What time is it?"

Hiccup shrugged. "I don't know. Twelve-thirty?"

Astrid rolled onto her back, her hand covering her face. "Shit. Shit, shit, shit."

"What?"

"I have practice at one. Shit."

"Oh."

Astrid rolled herself into a sitting position and hastily pulled her hair into a ponytail. She looked over her shoulder and Hiccup waited. He didn't want it to happen – the moment where she kicked him out of her bedroom and likely out of her life – but he waited for it. Instead of that, she rolled onto her knees and launched herself at him, crashing her mouth into his. Hiccup's hands closed around her instantly and they were kissing again, sloppily. Astrid broke the kiss as abruptly as it had begun.

"I don't want to go to practice," she mumbled into his lips, her voice holding a touch of that endearing whine.

"So don't," Hiccup said, nipping at her mouth.

"I have to. Ugh, I have to," she said pulling her mouth out of his reach.

She considered him for a minute and then said, "Give me your phone."

Hiccup stretched his face up and kissed the corner of her jaw. Astrid bent down to meet his lips with her own. The kiss became a thing of its own right, changing and evolving and drawing them in. Astrid objected noisily into his mouth, pushing both her palms against his chest. She laughed as she pulled back.

"I have to _go,"_ she insisted.

Hiccup tightened his arms around her and smirked. "Then go."

Astrid growled and whacked him upside his head with a pillow.

"Ow! Why would you do that?"

He let go of her to rub the side of his head. Hiccup watched as she crawled off his lap and started digging around in the pockets of his once again discarded jeans.

"Hey, what are you doing?" he asked.

"Your phone," she said as she yanked it out of his pocket. She fiddled with it and frowned, shoving it toward him. "Unlock it."

"Okay. Jeez. You're so hostile."

"I'm _hungry_. And late."

He handed his unlocked phone back to her and watched her thumbs working feverishly. She finished whatever she was doing and tossed the phone into his lap. Hiccup picked up the phone and stared at the newly added contact. Astrid's number was in his phone. _Astrid's _number. Astrid was rushing around her room, drawers opening and closing loudly all around him, but all Hiccup could do was stare at the phone number on the screen.

"It's not going to do any tricks," she said.

Hiccup looked up so see her standing there in her field hockey gear looking down on him with a smirk. He swallowed and flicked his screen off. Why did field hockey uniforms have to contain skirts? _Short_ skirts. Hiccup almost asked her if he could come watch her practice.

"I'm done at three-thirty," she said as she leaned in and kissed him one more time. He reached for her and she laughed, stepping out of his reach. "I have to go. Seriously."

"Fine," he muttered.

"Three-thirty."

"Three-thirty, right."

Hiccup watched her grab her bag and stick; she paused at the doorway and gave him a sideways smile that was perfectly charming. His face echoed hers and she mouthed _bye _at him before she left. He stared at the closed door after she had gone and then rolled around in her bed like a complete idiot. Because he was rolling around, naked, in Astrid's bed. It was so surreal. He rolled into her pillow and breathed in deeply. It smelled like her shampoo and…_Astrid._

Three-thirty, she'd said. Did that mean he should stay here until three-thirty? Or, he thought pulling up her number on his phone, did she mean for him to call her at three-thirty? Or should he text her? Or… God, he needed a shower. And food. He should go home. But if he went home, he wouldn't be in Astrid's bed anymore. And if he showered, he'd be washing _her_ off of him. If he showered, he'd have no solid evidence that any of this had happened. He looked at the screen on his phone again. He'd have her number. And three-thirty, whatever that meant.

Hiccup sighed and dragged himself out of bed. He pulled his jeans on for the second time that day and jammed his grubby boxers into his pocket. Astrid had been wearing his shirt before she'd changed. Hiccup looked around her room, feeling like some sort of criminal. Should he know what brand her deodorant was? Should he be seeing her dirty underwear on the floor? (_Astrid's _dirty underwear_._) He found his shirt piled on her dresser. He could smell her when he pulled it over his head. It was amazing how quickly the nose could deeply implant memories in the brain. She'd been wearing this shirt The Second Time (because sex with Astrid deserved its own title each and every time) and he could see her in it, on top of him, blonde hair dangling with her head thrown back and eyes closed. He bit his lip, growing hard again at the memory. He didn't think he would ever wash this shirt. He didn't even care if that made him creepy or weird.

Hiccup took one last, longing look at the bed (which he had tried to tidy before he left because what if her parents cared about that sort of thing? Or her brother?). It was an innocuous, regular-looking double bed but it would be forever ingrained in his memory as a sacred place. Hiccup crept down the stairs very quietly, socked feet against carpeted floors. He could hear a conversation coming from the kitchen and he really just wanted to slip out the front door but then he heard Frankie's voice. He peeked in the kitchen to see Frankie sitting across from Todd, while Rachel played with his hair. Scott was passed out on a plate of eggs and had somehow acquired a Viking hat. Astrid's brother, Marc, was sitting at the end of the table.

"What are _you_ doing here?" he asked Hiccup.

"I…uh…fell asleep upstairs," Hiccup offered.

Rachel snickered, kneading her hands in Frankie's hair. "Asleep, huh?"

Frankie jolted as if something had frightened him. He looked at Hiccup with terrified eyes. "Har-Harrison!"

"Hey," Hiccup said slowly.

It looked like Frankie was trying to kick something away under the table. Hiccup looked at Todd who was…_leering_ at Frankie?

"You guys are seriously talking to this guy?" Marc asked.

Rachel shrugged and Todd gave absolutely no indication that he would ever acknowledge Hiccup's presence. Scott snored into his eggs. Marc shook his head – blond like Astrid's – and stood up.

"Whatever. I'm going to sleep," he muttered.

He shoved his shoulder into Hiccup as he walked past. Hiccup rolled his eyes. He honestly could not care less about Marc Hofferson right now. Not when he had so many good things to remember about his sister.

"You want to go?" Hiccup asked Frankie.

Frankie nodded, eyes still terrified. Rachel wrapped her arms around Frankie's shoulders.

"You can't go yet," she said.

"Yeah, you can't go anywhere," Todd echoed.

Hiccup frowned as he looked between the twins and Frankie's terrified face. "I think he wants to go."

Todd looked at him for the first time, brows brought low over his eyes. Then his face opened up and he chuckled. "You're lucky Scott's not awake or else he'd pound you."

"Why would he pound me?"

"For pounding Astrid," he said chuckling louder.

Rachel picked up something off the table and hurled it at her brother. "I told you that in confidence!"

Todd smiled broadly. "I'm glad you're confident in me."

"I'm confident in killing you."

She launched herself across the table and started hitting Todd. Frankie used that opportunity to escape from his seat. He pushed solid hands into Hiccup's back and shoved him out the Hofferson's front door. Then he barrelled past Hiccup, walking rapidly.

"_What_ is going on?" Hiccup asked.

"Those two are _insane_."

"Do I even want to know what happened?"

"Nothing happened. My feet are dry."

"What?"

"Don't you turn this around, Harrison!" Frankie said, his voice rising several octaves. "What was Tuff saying about you and _Astrid_?"

"Nothing," Hiccup muttered. He could feel the blood rising to his face; he could smell her on his shirt when the wind picked up.

"_That_ is the statistical probability, but I don't think you're being fully accurate."

Hiccup didn't say anything; he couldn't. What would he say? Who would even believe it? His best friend had just told him it was a statistical improbability. He could feel Frankie peering at him.

"What?"

"You're exhibiting classic Harrison signs of deception: flushed cheeks and ears, furrowed brow, locked jaw."

Hiccup stopped walking and stared at Frankie. "Seriously? Did you make a card? Harrison Haddock, plus six sarcasm, minus three upper body strength, minus twenty chances of sleeping with Astrid Hofferson."

Frankie's eyebrows rose to comical heights. "You _slept_ with _Astrid_? And you're at least a plus ten sarcasm."

Hiccup shook his head, exasperated, and started walking again.

"Wait, wait, wait. I don't understand how this is possible."

"Oh, and why's that?" Hiccup asked dryly.

"You wore the green shirt."

"Seriously?" Hiccup exploded, stopping dead on the sidewalk, "You think my _shirt_ _colour_ had any bearing on this?"

"So you're not denying it happened."

Hiccup tossed his hands in the air and stomped forward with determination. Frankie trotted up alongside him.

"She must've liked you already. That would change the calculations significantly. I have no basis for how much she liked you."

"_Likes_, I hope."

Frankie peered at him again. "I should have taken into consideration the Iris Enhancement Effect."

"The _what_?"

"The Iris Enhancement Effect. The direct correlative effect that shirt colour has on the enhancement of eye colour. _Of course _the green shirt is the better choice."

"It's good to know I can be trusted to dress myself."

"Dress yourself _successfully_."

The walked in silence most of the way to Frankie's house. Hiccup knew that Frankie was re-running his calculations in his head. The statistical probability of what had happened the night before was probably infinitesimally small. It was literally an once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. He almost wanted to ask Frankie what the statistical probability of a replay of last night would be – but then he really didn't want to know. The first time was likely the _only_ time. The thought made Hiccup want to wash his shirt even less.

Hiccup unlocked his car when they reached Frankie's driveway. He opened the door and leaned against it.

"She gave me her number."

Frankie narrowed his eyes at him. "Are you going to call her?"

"Should I?"

"Did she tell you to?"

Hiccup shrugged. "She told me that her practice ended at three-thirty."

Frankie looked at him expectantly. "And you should call her?"

"She didn't say that," Hiccup said, frowning, "Expressly."

"Then you definitely shouldn't."

"Why not?"

"Because there are _rules_."

Hiccup raised a dubious eyebrow. "More unwritten laws?"

"Yes, exactly. Everyone knows that the person in a relationship who cares the least has the most power. If you call her, you're giving up any power you have."

"I'm feeling pretty powerless here already."

"Then you _can't_ call her," Frankie said definitively.

"Oh. Okay. Well, thanks, I guess," Hiccup said, sitting in his car.

As he drove home, his mind ran a mile a minute. He didn't really know _what_ to do. Did Astrid want him to call her? He wasn't even sure. She'd never _actually_ said that. And was Frankie right? Would calling her just completely release any power he had in this situation to Astrid? Did he even have any power? He didn't feel like he did. Did he need to have _power_? Was that even something that mattered? Maybe he should just call her. He should just call her at three-thirty. He should just call her and _talk_ to her. Then he'd know. He'd know if she answered the call, right? She'd pick up if she wanted to talk to him. Yes, she definitely would.

Hiccup showered and debated over the call the entire time. When he got out, he stared at his reflection. He didn't know what he was expecting. It wasn't as though there was some automatic No Longer a Virgin badge that would appear. He looked the same. Same big eye brows, same thin lips, same skinny chest. Everything was the same. Except everything was fundamentally different.

He got dressed and threw himself onto his bed. He toyed with his phone, dragging his thumb across the screen over and over again. Candy Crush then 2048 then Solitaire. He stared at the digital clock. He pulled up Astrid's number and hovered his thumb over the call button. He stared at the green shirt balled up in his hand.

3:29pm

Hiccup brought the shirt up to his face, closed his eyes, breathed deeply. _Astrid._

3:30pm

His thumb came down on the call button. The ringing echoed in his ear.


End file.
